under the whirling helicopter blades, the building trembles. a train rumbles by.
Watching the Superbowl on Sunday was a real treat! And not just because of the commmercials. The first half of the game was probably the most exciting. Each team worried the line of scrimmage like two dogs trying to gnaw off that last bit of meat on a big juicy bone: each team’s defense determined to nip the opposing team’s drive to the goal in the bud.I chortled with glee when the Giants consistently swarmed over the Patriots’ quarterback, Tom Brady for five seperate sacks (and the quarterback is toast). To be fair, the Patriots did their fair share of sacking Eli Manning, but I think they were more effective at coverage: there were a lot of incompletes on the part of the Giants.
How each team played during the second half of the game was different— the spell was broken. The determination of each team to win did not seem as intense as before: it was still there, but it was muted somehow.
When the Giants finally made the touchdown that placed them in the lead, I was happy. When the Patriots countered with a touchdown of their own, I was disappointed. Plus, for the first time in years, I felt a vested intrest in watching the final two minutes of a Superbowl game; boy, was that intrest paid in full when the Giants scored the winning touchdown— like everyone else rooting for the Giants— I screamed for joy. Why did they even bother putting that final second up on the board?
For stopping the Patriots in their tracks, I forgive the Giants for pushing Dallas off the road to the Superbowl. Next year; however, they won’t be so lucky. (evil grin).
ttfn
